The Marriage Merger (19 page)

He dropped her arm and she walked to the
door, deliberately resisting the urge to rub the spot he had
touched and ease the burning it had created.

“Can I come in, Jinx?”

“Yes, Possum.” Jenna brushed her hair back
off her face. She had washed it, blow dried it, and now she was
brushing it into a mass of wild auburn curls. Her green eyes were
brilliant with the anger that still seethed within her. Her
reflection told her how startlingly attractive she looked but it
didn’t register in her churning brain. Caitlin slid onto the bed
and watched her.

“How do you like Sally?” Jenna asked,
referring to the nanny Veronica had sent.

Caitlin shrugged. “She’s okay. What are you
going to wear?”

Jenna walked over to the wardrobe and reached
inside. “This. Samantha, my flatmate in London, insisted I buy it.
We were going to a hospital fund-raising Ball and the men had to
bid for the woman staff member they wanted to dance with that
evening.”

She didn’t add that she had only bought and
worn the dress on a dare from Samantha. Or that she had raised more
money that evening than any other staff member. As she looked again
at the dress it was not impossible to see why. She slipped off her
robe, unzipped the dress, stepped into it, deftly slid the zip up,
then spun around to Caitlin.

Caitlin’s eyes widened like saucers.
“Wow!”

Jenna turned to the mirror and wondered if
Veronica would approve of this 'making do'. The dress was
sleeveless, long, black, and showed off Jenna’s creamy skin to
perfection. And a lot of skin there was to see. The shoulder straps
were only an inch wide and the neckline was square and cut so low
the rounded swell of each lush breast was clearly visible.

There was a split up the front of the dress,
ending just low enough to be decent and allowing a tantalizing view
of her long shapely legs as she walked. The back lowered down to
her waist in a deep cowl. She couldn’t wear a bra underneath but
with her firm figure she didn’t need one.

She had debated about wearing pantyhose but
her legs had a smooth satin sheen to them that she knew would be
more enticing than any nylon. She slipped on a pair of elegant
black sandals, then did a mental checklist.

“Caitlin, be a dear and take a little packet
of tissues from my bedside drawer and put it in my purse near you
on the bed, please,” she asked.

She looked in the mirror as she fastened her
necklace. It had been a twenty-first birthday gift from her parents
and she loved the delicate simplicity of it. A swirling filigree of
silver and emeralds in a curved triangular shape the lower point of
which drew attention to her cleavage.

She looked around quickly as she heard a
thump and saw Caitlin jump off the bed.

“I dropped your purse, Jinx, but it’s all
right, I’ve got it.”

Jenna smiled as Caitlin walked over to her
with the purse. She loved this child and leaving her would break
her heart as much as leaving Braden would. She cringed at the
thought and tried to stop the sharp stinging in her eyes. She
swiftly gathered the child into her arms and gave her a kiss.

“Be good, Possum.” Her voice was husky and
she cleared her throat as she straightened her shoulders and walked
into the loungeroom.

Braden was waiting for her, darkly handsome
and exuding more masculine appeal than any dinner suit should ever
have to handle. His eyes widened as she walked over to him. He
opened his mouth to speak but seemed to have trouble finding the
words.

“You can’t ...” he finally croaked, “wear
that.”

“I’ll wear what I like, Braden. I’m a free
woman.” She tossed her head and the mass of curls shook at him like
a reprimand.

“What are you trying to do, Jenna?” Concern
flared across his face. “There’ll be men there tonight who’ll take
one look at you and think you’re offering more than you’re willing
to give. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that
last night!” she snapped and had the satisfaction of seeing him
flinch, his face whitening beneath the tan. Before he could reply
she swept out the door and flounced down the stairs.

Her heart was pounding. She knew she should
have waited for the elevator but she couldn’t have coped with
Braden’s nearness in its close confines. She could feel her nerves
tightening like an overwound guitar string and prayed she would get
through the evening without breaking down.

She heard his footsteps following her down.
At the foyer entrance he moved past her and opened the door. His
face was a mask, betraying no emotion.

Not a word passed between them on the trip to
Veronica's. The electronic gates were open and guards checked the
guests as they arrived. Braden opened the car door for her but made
no move to assist her out. The warm mellow tones of Michael Bublé
flowed out softly to them on the warm evening air.

As Braden escorted Jenna into the massive
foyer he placed his hand on her waist. She stiffened and glared at
him. How dare he! Surely he couldn’t be so inconsiderate of
Veronica’s feelings? Or was this the way their marriage was going
to be? Each free to follow their own desires in or outside the
marriage? She shuddered. His hand dropped away from her like a
stone.

Jenna saw Veronica at the same moment that
Veronica saw her. Like Jenna, Veronica was dressed in black, but
the skilful design and the ornate beading of Veronica’s gown paled
before the sheer simplicity of Jenna’s and the beautiful body it
accentuated.

Hatred flashed across Veronica’s face with
such force that her features contorted her beauty to ugliness. Then
just as swiftly it was gone. She walked towards them and by the
time she reached them her facade of the gracious, charming hostess
was once more back in place.

“Braden, darling,” she gushed as she placed
her hand on his arm and kissed him on the cheek. “And Jenna.” There
was no change in her smile but the temperature had definitely
dropped a few degrees.

Jenna felt curious eyes scrutinizing her, the
men’s with open admiration and not a small hint of lust, the
women’s with the kind of wariness that shows alertness to
competition. She glanced at Braden, then swiftly away. His jaw was
rigid, neck muscles taut.

A waiter with a drinks tray walked by and
Veronica signalled him over. She took two glasses of white wine off
the tray and handed them to Braden and Jenna. Jenna shook her
head.

“No, thank you. I don’t drink.”

“Don’t be silly,” Veronica insisted.
“Tonight’s an exception. Everyone has to celebrate with us.” She
held out the glass to Jenna.

Jenna knew she would have been wiser to just
accept the drink and take the first opportunity to put it down or
pour it on one of the potted plants, but Braden was eyeing her
speculatively and for some stupid reason she didn’t want him to
think she was just being churlish.

“I’m allergic to wine. Perhaps if you have
some fruit punch?”

“Of course, my dear,” Veronica beamed. “I’ll
arrange for some for you. Now I do have to discuss some things with
Braden, so let me introduce you to some people.”

Jenna was involved in a discussion with two
young men on the merits on the Australian health care system when
the waiter brought her a tall glass of fruit punch with tropical
fruit segments floating on the top.

“Miss Lloyd’s compliments, Miss. She said it
has a bit of a bite to it, but the ginger ale is a particularly
strong one.”

It did have a tang but Jenna was thirsty. She
drank it a little faster than she normally would have, but her
throat was dry from the tension of the silent drive and the dread
of how she would cope when Braden and Veronica announced their
forthcoming marriage.

For the first time since her fiery
stubbornness had made her accept Veronica’s challenge she regretted
coming here tonight. Only her anger had given her the courage to
wear the dress which had had every eye in the room focused on her
when she’d walked in with Braden. And Braden was so furious he was
positively seething. As Veronica had dragged him away he had looked
back at Jenna with eyes that threatened a full-scale battle the
moment they were alone.

But now Jenna's bravado had evaporated. If
she were painfully honest with herself she knew she could have
grabbed her towel last night and stormed past Braden and he would
have let her go. Reluctantly, oh, very reluctantly, but he would
not have forced himself on her. What had happened had been as much
her desire as his, she couldn’t deny that. Even now her body
reacted to the memory of their lovemaking. It had ignited a flame
in her that she knew no other man could equal.

She glanced around the room but she couldn’t
see Braden or Veronica. She turned her attention back to the two
young men whose eager looks wandered where their hands would have
liked to follow.

A cough was the first sign.

Then the old familiar tightness in her chest.
Her cheeks tingled with warmth. Another cough, its hoarseness
alerting her to the need for action. She quickly excused herself
and headed for one of the open french doors leading out onto the
back patio. There were people spilling out from the house but she
managed to find a secluded corner. She placed the almost empty
glass on a table. By this time the asthma had worsened and
something more alarming was happening.

Up until then Jenna thought she was only
reacting to the fruit or some unusual preservative in the soft
drink. But now she knew that Veronica had spiked her drink with
white wine. She should have realised, but the tang of the ginger
ale had disguised it. And now the humming had begun. It felt like
bees had taken up residence in her throat and mouth as the soft
membranes started to swell in reaction to the allergen.

She searched desperately in her purse. With a
sob of relief she brought her puffer to her mouth. Several sprays
eased the difficulty in drawing air into her lungs. She searched
further.

It wasn’t there! The little packet of
antihistamine tablets she knew she had placed in the purse wasn’t
there! Suddenly she was frightened. Her syringe filled with
adrenaline for just this sort of emergency was a little too bulky
for her evening bag and she had left it at the penthouse.

The tablets would have alleviated the
symptoms long enough for her to reach a doctor. If the reaction
wasn’t too bad, depending on what she had accidentally consumed,
sometimes they were sufficient to counteract the effects of the
allergenic substance. But if they weren’t ...only an adrenaline
injection would save her from certain death.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Having to hide from marauding men already,
Jenna?”

Braden’s voice cut through her fear. She
glanced up anxiously as his figure loomed before her. Then a spasm
of coughing shook her and she turned away.

“What’s wrong?” His strong hands spun her
back towards him, his face clouded with concern. He took in the
flush on her cheekbones, the unnatural glitter in her eyes, then
his gaze dropped to the puffer in her hand.

“You have asthma?”

She nodded. But she didn’t have time to
discuss it, her life depended on her reaching medical help
immediately.

“I have to get to a hospital,” she croaked.
Already the swelling was affecting her vocal cords. Soon she would
have no voice at all. Then ... She tried not to let the thought
panic her. She had learned years ago that if she stayed calm and
practised controlled breathing she could sometimes slow down the
inevitable, inexorable closure of her throat and nasal passages.
Panic would have the opposite effect.

“Isn’t your puffer working?” A glimmer of
anxiety showed in the grey eyes.

She shook her head. “Anaphylaxis.”

His eyebrows drew closer together in a
worried frown.

“My throat ... is ... closing over.” The
effort to force out the words while gasping to draw air into her
lungs almost made her dizzy. Soon, she knew, her blood would
steadily be deprived of oxygen as the swelling increased, her blood
pressure would drop, and if nothing was done to reverse the
condition, she would die of suffocation. She struggled to tell this
to Braden, but the effort was too much. Already the allergen was
overwhelming the effects of her puffer and the wheezing was
depriving her of valuable air.

He must have understood what she was trying
to say because his reaction was immediate.

“I’ll get you to a doctor. Can you walk?”

She nodded. He took her arm and guided her
along the patio, then down a path running around the house to where
his car was parked. He swiftly opened the door, swept her inside
and fastened her seat belt. He slid into his seat and turned on the
engine in one swift movement. Gravel spurted from beneath the
spinning wheels as he roared out of the driveway.

Another hoarse cough racked her body and
Jenna brought the puffer to her mouth in a valiant attempt to delay
the inevitable. She knew that it was futile, she was already
shaking in reaction to the large doses of the medication she had
inhaled. It was a strange feeling, sitting there helpless while the
humming and the swelling increased, knowing that all she could do
was try to stay calm. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she
fought back the panic and terror that threatened to engulf her.

Braden took out his mobile and spoke rapidly
into it as he sped down narrow curving streets then up onto the
motorway. On the long straight stretch his speed increased. Jenna
turned to watch his profile.

She was shocked at how grim he looked. Dear
God, she’d forgotten what tonight must mean to him. He was supposed
to be announcing his plans to marry Veronica and instead he had had
to leave the party without even telling Veronica where he was
going. Had he been phoning her, explaining? No, no, she had heard
him say a man’s name ... Ian or Andy. Her brain was fuzzy and it
was too hard to remember. Her breathing was very laboured now.